The Puppeteer
by Ihatefanficssomuch
Summary: After the events of Fujiyama Gangsta Paradise and Roberta's Blood Trail, Rock willingly embraces the cold, criminal underworld of Roanapur in order to find the power to finally make a difference in others' lives. His immersion into the violent world of Roanapur, however, is not met without the mixed support and resistance from his crewmates, business partners, and of course, Revy.
1. A Date With The Devil

Revy was sprawled across the couch in the Black Lagoon's bridge. Though her body appeared to be resting, the gunslinger felt nothing but tension. Her body was like a coiled spring, waiting to release all the energy inside. Sometimes she would reach for her Cutlasses on the table in front of her, thinking that Dutch or Benny finally got a call for _some _work. But alas, it was just another sleepless 1AM morning on the Lagoon.

Her boss, Dutch, a big African-American man with a Vietnam-era flak jacket and unique sunglasses that were more small black shot glasses tied to his face by thin rods, was manning the Lagoon's controls in the front of the deck. Benny, the blond, computer-nerd telecommunications and research expert of the Lagoon crew, was by his side, examining charts, graphs, and reports from other organizations in Roanapur. He was wearing his usual orange Hawaiian style shirt, something that Revy wished Rock would do.

Roanapur's side of the South China Sea melted into the dark sky. From where she was, Revy couldn't tell where Roanapur's waters were and where the night began. "I'm fuckin' bored, Dutch. When are we finally going to get some work?" she said, sitting up on the couch.

Dutch sighed. Always the calm, level-headed leader, Dutch knew that the one thing Revy hated above anything else, even assholes, was boredom. Truthfully, he was itching for a little action too. Even though Rock and Revy's last job for Boss Chang of the Triads landed them a hefty sum to the music of $5 million of Uncle Sam's bucks, he was a businessman, and businessmen worked. Sure, he could say they were secure just sitting her on the Lagoon's dock, but sitting on his ass playing with his thumbs wasn't his idea of work either.

"Revy, I've got as much cabin fever as you. But we haven't had a call from Chang, Balalaika, or anyone in the past two months. Everyone's too busy with their own business, that we probably won't be getting any for a while," Dutch replied, his eyes and hands still fiddling about the Lagoon's control panel. He expected Revy to rant, fire off a few bullets in response to the cold hard truth, but all he heard was Revy's exasperated groan behind him. He smiled, amused. Revy was an okay person to be in the same room with when she wasn't attached to her guns.

"With all respect to Revy and you Dutch, I actually wouldn't mind a few more days of this vacation," Benny chimed in. "The gangs are calling in their hubs from across the world, getting new men and shipments each day. If you ask me, with all these hired guns, they're gonna end up crossing each other soon, and we can't afford pissing off some of our best customers." He flipped his roll of Benjamins that was sitting on his workspace. "Besides, we've got enough money to wait out this storm. Charts are done, by the way, Dutch. No operations from either Hotel Moscow or the Triads within 500km of Roanapur." He stood up from his workspace. "I'll be taking a nap now, if you don't mind," he said in between yawns, making his way for the bridge's door.

"Good work, Benny-boy. If anything does come up, we'll be prepared. Get some sleep."  
"Sure hoping nothing does come up. Will do, Dutch. Night, Revy." Revy mumbled incoherently in response.

Whenever Rock wasn't around, Benny always advocated for using less bullets…it meant less work. Like Dutch, he was a hard-worker, but unlike Dutch and Revy, violence was something necessary that he tried to avoid. This time, he was right. With Roanapur still recovering from the "Psycho-Maid" Roberta and Uncle Sam's own visit to the city of the walking dead, the major players in Roanapur were more concerned with regaining and retaining their hold on their respective parts of the city.

The heavy metal door creaked, closing behind Benny. "Great, now only two of us are going to die of boredom," Revy said sarcastically. "To hell with that bitch maid. Should've offed her and that mini-maid when I had the chance," She clenched her fists as the name came back to her head. Roberta the Maid. It wasn't that Revy hated her. In fact, the lack of business opportunity right now wasn't entirely the maid's fault, but the fact that Hotel Moscow, the Triads, the cartels, and other factions in Roanapur were still reeling from the distrust and miscommunication during her one-woman war. No, Revy just couldn't stand that she was rendered useless during the whole fiasco. The wound left by a bullet striking her left elbow had healed already, but it didn't change that for one moment she stuck her head out for someone, she was vulnerable. And she had almost died.  
That someone's name then floated to the top of her consciousness, and Revy could feel her blood boil.

_Thanks for nothing, Rock._

The captain scoffed. "Like hell you'd turn down all of that money Chang offered to get Roberta and the US army out of here. Speaking of which, Benny is right. You've got money and time to burn. The whole world's yours, Revy. Why don't you pay the Yellow Flag a visit, or at least see some of the sights? Roanapur's a lot of fun if you know where to look. It'll be more fun than wasting away like a corpse here."

_We're already dead, Dutch. _"Tcht. A few problems there, bossman. One, I don't have a dick or a pair," Dutch, still facing away from Revy, found that VERY amusing, trying his best to let out a laugh, "so that chops off half of the city's 'fun' spots for me. Two, Bao's still pretty pissed off about the whole tiny-maid incident. And whaddaya know, he blames me. Real fuckin' surprise there, huh? Little girl stabs a guy in the balls, she starts throwing grenades everywhere, and somehow, ol' Two Hands is the red-handed culprit." Before she continued, she paused and turned away, visibly embarrassed at what she was about to say. "And third…"  
"What is it?"

"I've…I've got no money." she blurted out shamefully.

Dutch, now less amused and more confused, wheeled the chair around and looked at Revy judgingly. Fortunately for her, she was looking away like a daughter who told her father that she committed a crime, so even she couldn't see Dutch's stupidly surprised face.

"Hold up. You mean to tell me your share of the pay, that $1 million dollar paycheck, is gone?" he said.

Revy, too exhausted and too down of a mood to reply violently, sighed. "You heard it, Dutch. All poofed away like a little tooth fairy took it. Or in this case, a damned nun."

"How the HELL did you screw that up?" he demanded.

Still looking away, Revy explained herself. "It was one night, visited Eda at the Ripoff Church. We played a few games, a few hands and I…kind of lost the money."

"Kind of? Revy, you just threw a $1 million dollar fish into the ocean. Did you even THINK that Eda or anyone else in Roanapur aside from Balalaika or Chang had that much money?"

"All right, all right! So I made a bad bet. Sheesh, you sound like a mom. Not that I'd know what a mom does."

"There's a difference between a bad bet and wasting money. Remind me never to put you in charge of the books."

Revy groaned at Dutch's half-assed lecture. "Christ, if I wanted to get lectured, I'd just say a few curse words in front of Rock and watch as he tries to baptize me." She straightened her black tank top like a tie, and styled her hair like Rock's with her hands. " 'Revy, that's not polite in front of our customers. Revy, will you please put your cigarette out, it might give Fry-Face PTSD flashbacks. Revy, I need your help to save a little schoolgirl who's got a fuckin' samurai for a bodyguard,' " she mocked. "His bleeding heart and the mess he caused Roanapur is the only reason I'm sitting here bored."

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen your little boyfriend around a lot, lately." Dutch asked. That certainly waked Revy up from her moody stupor. "A few calls to make sure he's still in one piece out there, but aside from that, I haven't heard him at all."

As soon as Dutch finished talking, Revy quickly replied. "He's nothing like that Dutch. Don't even for a second think I'd be interested in a mopey shit like him. Never."

"That certainly sounds different from a few weeks ago."  
"How?"

"You said his heart was too big and too warm to not get shot in a place like this," Dutch recalled. "Which is pretty much the same thing you just said, just worded much differently." He stood up from the calibrated control panel, and walked towards Revy. "Hell, it's weird not to see you two tied to the hip nowadays. Did you two have a fight or something?"

"No, nothing like that," she replied. It was so painfully truthful that Revy quickly restrained herself, unwilling to reveal more. "And I don't want to talk about it," Revy replied curtly.  
"It must have important enough to make you lose $1 million in one night," Dutch said. "You only bet big and stupid when you're upset." Great. Now two people knew her weakness. "As captain of the Lagoon, I am also the PR head of this crew. So I'm here to listen and hopefully get you back into working shape."

Revy looked up from the ground and at Dutch. "You really want the truth, Dutch?" Revy's eyes seemed different tonight, Dutch thought. They weren't the rabid eyes of a hungry dog or a skull, like himself or the other nobodies who roamed Roanapur. For once, Dutch saw a sliver of humanity in her eyes. And that was all she needed to have Dutch's full support and attention.

"I wouldn't expect anything less than that from my employee," he said, taking a seat next to Revy on the couch. For a while, the only sounds Dutch heard were the seagulls in the port and a few gunshots in the distance. Revy remained silent, finding out how to put the words in her mouth.

"It's Rock," she flatly said.  
"I could've guessed that a few minutes ago."

"Remember how I said he wasn't one of us when he first joined? How I almost blew his brains out in the middle of a noodle café?" she said slowly, carefully. Reminiscing the past, a different time and a different Rock, almost felt kind of good. Like a smoke after a bath.

"The amount we bribed the police to get both of you out of jail rings a bell. What does that have to do with him now?"

"He's different. He's not the same wide-eyed naïve businessman I took hostage."

Dutch thought about that statement. It was well over a year and a half since that day they took Rock with them. He didn't regret it. Rock was, as his job was, an exceptional businessman. He took over the books from Benny the second day of his employment, and within a few months, "missed" payments from customers started coming in by the boatload. Of course, he had Revy to help him too.

"I reckon, in this field, he wouldn't have survived if he stayed the same."

"Yeah. Wait, no, it's not that," Revy backtracked. "Forget what I said."

"Forgotten. You mind starting over so I'm not confused?"

"Dutch, Rock is…he's still got that dumb, big heart of his. Always trying to be the hero. Doing anything he can to do that. Even using people to get his happy ending." The more she talked about Rock, the more tense she felt. Rock, the idiot businessman who almost got her killed for the sake of "doing what's right". She reached her pockets for a cigarette, but cursed under her breath when she realized she didn't have any because she had no money to buy anymore.

"Still not seeing the point, Revy. So Rock knows how to get what he wants. It's not different from how you use your guns to get your point across."

"Fuck you, it is!" Revy burst. Dutch reeled at the sudden explosion of despair from Revy. The gunslinger, wide-eyed and vulnerable, quickly turned away, hiding her sadness. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. But you're not leaving until you get this off your chest," Dutch calmly replied, lighting his own cigarette. Revy heard the sound of his zippo, but Dutch refused her unspoken request. "Not until you tell me everything, Two-Hands."

"Fuck. He just…throws himself into these god-damn situations that are going to earn him a new asshole. He's going to end up in some gutter if he keeps following that damned heart of his. Always the bleeding heart, always having to do "what's right", always has to go out and save some crying person from a terrible end. But by himself, he's _useless_. Dead _useless _without someone there to do the hard work." She stopped, remembering her and Rock's words. _If I'm the bullet, you're the gun._

Dutch puffed the cigarette, and took it out of mouth. "You must mean the psycho maid incident. The Romanian twins. And that job in Japan."

"He's playing a fuckin' tightrope game, with himself and everyone around him at stake. And for what? Just to make himself feel better? To make himself think that he's not as bad as the rest of us? If that's how it is, he's a selfish shit, and he can rot in a fucking ditch for all I care." Revy's words started to pour out faster, and faster, but softer. She paused to take a breath. "Or maybe he's actually doing this for the people he sticks his head out for. Maybe he actually does care for that unfortunate bastard who finds herself shit out of luck in a world that'll eat her alive. Maybe he doesn't want them to end up like the people here. And if it's like that, he's a lucky moron. That kind of attitude should have gotten him iced a year ago." Revy had never spoken this much about anyone to…anyone. It scared her. Actually, this was the first time she said anything about anyone that wasn't a direct insult or threat. Dutch nodded silently, taking in everything Revy was saying.

"So is it Rock's safety you're worried about? I'll admit, he's not much of a fighter, but he's got enough brains to get himself out of sticky situations."

"It's not his safety I'm worried about. I mean, as long as he's with Lagoon, there's no way I'm letting him buy it out here. " Revy crossed her arms. "This whole "talking it out" with the PR head wasn't a good idea at all, Dutch."

"Then this whole thing sounds like something you two have to work out," he said as he stood up, making his way for the end of the bridge. "I'm tired. As the head of PR on this boat and the captain, I suggest you go talk this out with our little Romeo himself."

"I'll pass. He'll probably ask me some other impossible favor. Between Nip-land and that psycho maid, I've had enough bullets and swords jammed into my joints for the next year or two. Thanks for the ' help ', Dutch," Revy said sarcastically. "Hey, gimme that smoke." Dutch casually threw her the rest of the pack. Revy fingered through it, but found that it was empty, much to her disappointment. "Go to hell!" she yelled as Dutch laughed.

"You want a smoke? I know a Japanese businessman whose got plenty of those he's willing to share. He probably didn't throw his $1 million paycheck away, either. Maybe you could go out and convince him to get you a drink or two at Bao's?" Dutch said smoothly. "Just check on him for us, at least. You're not the only crew member who's worrying me right now. Good night, Rebecca."

Before Revy could ask him for at least a lighter, the door closed, leaving Revy alone in the dark bridge.

"Fuck."


	2. Friendly Fire

At the foot of the ladder inside the "renovated" brig, Revy did one final check on the chambers of her Cutlasses. There was a loaded 9mm bullet inside each. Weapons, ammunition, and other supplies were stocked all around the walls and sides of former holding cell in bolted down racks and cases. Dutch, tired of Revy using up all their ammunition, converted the holding cell into an armory that would make Fry-Face's hardass ex-Russian Army gangsters squeal like schoolgirls. In fact, most of the guns screamed Eastern-European in design, from PP-Bizons to Kalashnikov-knockoffs and even the ol' reliable, and explosive, RPG-7. Pausing to think, Revy swiped two high capacity 9mm magazines from the rack. It was always better to have too much ammo than too little.

She sighed, remembering how Rock pretty much holed himself up in the room for a whole four hours after that batshit-insane Romanian twin caught a bullet with her head, right in front of him. And from the getaway contact who was supposed to get her the hell (or him? What the fuck did Rock see under that skirt, anyway? she thought) out of here, to boot.

Ever since then, she recalled, Dutch personally turned down any personal transportation jobs. The Black Lagoon was an "honest merchant" ship, not a seafaring taxi, he said. That could've been another reason for the swift renovation.

Revy flicked the light switch near the middle of the ladder as she climbed up the ladder. She poked her head through the hatch, emerging in the now-dark and abandoned bridge. It was still only 1:30AM, according to the clock on the control panel.

Her boots clanged on the metal floor of the Lagoon. It was dark, she didn't need a light to find her way in this familiar darkness, although a smoke was never a bad thing. In fact, it was a good thing, good enough that Revy decided to get her ass off the couch and beg (extort) a few of the cancer sticks from the Jap over as his apartment.

Roanapur wasn' t much different in the nighttime as it was in the daytime. Ironically, the city of the walking dead was more awake and alive at night. Even now, she could hear the faint sounds of gunfire and police sirens in the distance. Through the circular windows on the starboard side, she could see into the port, where there were only a few other boats docked. Most of them were small fishing dinghies belonging to the ethnic locals, loaded with TNT explosives for the next morning. Dutch was right: Roanapur sure had sights to see at night. Sights like a body that's been floating and rotting away in the ocean about 10 meters from the Lagoon's mooring.

With a loud clang, Revy kicked open the door to the deck. The groans of Benny's disturbed sleep barely brushed her ears as she hopped off the deck onto the wooden pier. As soon as she took a few steps, though, she certainly smelled the carcass. She looked in the direction the smell was coming from, and saw that the waves brought the naked, rotting body closer to the Lagoon. Fish were biting and nibbling all around the corpse, ripping tiny bits of flesh at a time. What was left of the corpse's face stared up at the moon and sky. From the mangled bit of flesh left between the corpse's legs that the fish were fighting over, Revy could tell that it used to be a man. And from the bound legs, arms, and ruptured abdomen, the corpse was probably drowned by the Italians. _Must have pissed off the wrong guido._ She spat at the corpse before continuing down the pier.

The corners and alleyways near the pier were usually spots where some hopeless schmuck would hide, waiting for someone dumb enough to not come armed. Revy had not only seen this happen, but knew how the whole ploy worked firsthand. Then, once they found someone weak enough, they'd strike, probably with a knife of some sort, since they obviously can't afford a gun if they needed to hide. Score if the poor dead guy had a gun on him. When she stowed away on one of Chang's international freighters in New York and landed in Roanapur, she had to do just that.

Next to the last container warehouse was an especially dark alleyway, covered by tall weeds. She remembered that dark corner she hid in about ten years ago, eyeing easy prey at night where she was now standing. Luckily for Revy, she tried to shank bossman Chang himself, thinking him to be just another weak, lonely, East-Asian yes-man. She remembered it all fondly like an old man. She also remembered how she she didn't see the gangsters piling out of his yacht. _Fuckin' worst beatdown in my life, she thought. _A few scared laughs and drinks later though, and she found herself on first name terms with the big man of Roanapur himself.

By the time she reached the first dim streetlight, the smell of dead corpses finally wafted away into the night. Strangely, the streetlights were the only things not riddled with bullets or coming apart at the seams. All the buildings near the pier, she noticed, had at least six bullet holes inside of them. The whole street may as well have been paved with bits of brick and concrete, painted over with a thin shade of dried blood. Nothing unusual here.

Revy heard the distant skirmishes moving farther west. From the automatic weapon fire that never seemed to cease, she guessed one of the factions was Fry-Face's Hotel Moscow, probably "defending" their turf from the cartel gangsters a good mile away. Even from this distance, she knew what her goons' AK-47s sounded like. They weren't Kalashnikov knockoffs like the ones in the armory, but the real, Red Army-era deal. Secretly, she wanted a few of those babies for herself.

She got to the intersection of Pier Lane and Gohta Way. The streets here, on Fry-Face and Chang's shared turf, were empty tonight. A few 7.62mm casings were lying on the middle of the street in a rough line. From their distance in between, Revy guessed that Fry-Face's goons strolled past this part of town on their Jeeps. The bodies of a few rival gangsters were left on the sidewalk, their blood smeared over the now-crumbling walls behind them, all of them face down. They were shot trying to run away. Many of them were missing limbs. Chunks of their bodies were literally ripped away by the powerful rounds.

One corpse, however, on Revy's path was left in relatively good condition, and had quite a few of his own 9mm bullet casings covering his body. Either he managed to squeeze them all off a dinky pistol before he went down, or his trigger finger got stuck on his automatic piece when his brain caught the bullet.

She felt an urge to stop, kick the body over, and search it for what the heck he was carrying. Looting and stealing was kind of part of the job description when she signed up with Dutch a long time ago. Now, she was a natural at taking things that were worth a pretty penny. And to a woman like her, guns, bullets, and high capacity magazines were like diamonds. If it was any other time of the day, she would have looted the stiff without a question. What's a dead guy gonna do with money and guns, anyway?

Right now, however, she had a much more dire need to attend to: the need to light up and get drunk. Her mood was probably not much better than Rock's was right now. She was moody, broke, and most importantly, still cigarette-less. Having to walk all the way north, up in Chang's part of town to the Yellow Flag, would not help her mood at all. Which meant she needed to find Rock, get a smoke, get his mopey self off his bed, and into his car.

Oh, and make sure he brings a bit of money to pay off her tab. _Can't forget the money,_she thought.

_Fuckin' Eda, _she whispered to herself, staring at the corpse as she continued her way to the east side of town. She'd be back for it, later.

Years ago, east Roanapur City used to be part of the Triads' turf. On some mornings, Rock could see, through his apartment's window, the skeletons of abandoned rickshaws and the remnants of old fliers, the Cantonese characters nothing more than scrawling on faded paper. Nowadays, it was in the capable hands of Balalaika and Hotel Moscow, much to the dismay of the drug and arms dealers who took to Chang's bad side. As a gift to Balalaika, he gave her full rein on the local businesses and fronts in this part of town. Unfortunately for the businessmen who crossed Chang, Hotel Moscow did not turn problematic tenants into gifts for their contacts. In short, the whole area was turned into a warzone within 2 hours of Chang and Balalaika sealing the deal. Holes where stray 7.62mm bullets broke through the ramshackle brick riddled the corner of Rock's humble abode. His apartment was a simple bedroom, no bigger than the living quarters in the Lagoon. Soft moonlight shined through, needling Rock, who was in his chair, facing his window. The room itself was dark, save for the cigarette in his mouth.

His dark, beady eyes seemed to gaze into the horizon. In the window was another bullethole that broke through the glass and sheared the blinds. All Rock saw behind this new window was the dark night sky.

Rock took another long drag of his cigarette before its light gave away, leaving nothing but the butt. He had been here for the past 3 hours, silent. In fact, he had been doing this at the same time for the past 2 months now. From 11AM to 2AM, he would sit, smoke, wait for the next call from Dutch or another knock on his door from Revy, and think.

He thought about the Romanian twins, about "Gretel". The smile of a tortured soul finally given hope, hope that there was a world where she didn't have to play a game just to live another day. The blood running down her face as she took one last gaze at the beautiful, blue sky that was a far cry from the gray walls of the orphanage. How she would be forgotten, her corpse sprawled backwards on that dock in Pangkalpinang.

He thought of the Washimine heiress, Yukio, who willingly threw herself into the Japanese underground in order to stand by her friend's side forever. How the world of Roanapur, and Hotel Moscow, destroyed the Washimine family on a whim, and with it, her desire to return to the light. When she fought back and gave in to the darkness, she lost the one person who brought her light and happiness in her life.

He thought of Garcia, Fabiola, and the vengeful maid Roberta. The rubber bullet that Fabiola shot at him, the gun that he forced Garcia to use on Roberta in order to stop her. The unconscious Garcia, who almost died at the hands of the maid sworn to protect her. Roberta and Garcia survived, but Fabiola's words wounded him deeper than any bullet.

"_You toyed with the young master's life, just to experience the thrill of the ultimate gamble. You are already a true resident of this city,_" _Fabiola hissed._

Despite all his thinking, he had gotten nowhere. Not now, not before. No matter what he said, no matter what he tried to do, it was Roanapur, and its long black arm, that took them all. People were still dying. People were still being killed. And people like Yukio, Gretel, and Garcia were still being drawn into this city of the walking dead by the hands of its residents, to dance the dance of death.  
Just like he was, almost a year and a half ago.

Why couldn't he save them?

"_You are already a true resident of this city."_

Just as he lit another cigarette, Rock heard a crude knock from behind him. Actually, it was more of a kick than a knock, he thought as he turned around. He reached for the mop in the corner, gripping it tightly in his right hand. His body trembled as he made his way to the door. Who could it be at this hour in the night?

Before he could answer his own question, the crude voice behind the door belted out harsly. "Hey Rock! I know you're there. Open this fuckin' door now!" Revy kicked the door again, hard enough that Rock could see it bending into his room. "You know I'll break it down if you don't open it, dipshit!"

He breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone was going to kill him tonight, at least he knew it'd be her. "I'm coming, Revy," he said. Revy didn't hear him over the sound of her knocking.

"Hurry it up or-Shit!" she started to yell. Just as Revy was about to slam her foot into the door, Rock gently opened the door, his eyes wide open as he saw her boot come closer. He jumped backwards, his nose moving just enough to avoid the dirty sole of her boot. She stumbled forward, her arms flailing at her sides looking for something to grab before she landed with a dull thud on Rock's apartment.

"Revy! Are you all right?" Rock asked while moving back. He was wise enough to take this opportunity to distance himself from the soon-to-be-pissed-off woman.

Revy quickly got up. Her face was twisted into a hungry snarl, her eyes fixated on Rock. She closed the distance, grabbing and pulling Rock by the lapel of his white collar shirt with one hand. Her other hand was balled into a fist next to Rock's face. "Don't gimme that "are you all right?" bullcrap. I've been broke, sober, and smokeless since yesterday, and it's already 2AM! Do I look "all right" to you?" she screamed."I just need my fuckin' fix Rock," she hissed, pulling him closer, "now. Before I really start to blow my nerves." The businessman remained unfazed, staring back at Revy with equally dark eyes. Rock knew Revy liked her smokes, but this was the first time she was this violent over a bit of tobacco.

"I'll give you a cigarette, Revy. Just let go of me," he said defeatedly . Revy complied, releasing her grip on the businessman. Quickly, Rock reached into his back pocket, taking out his pack of cigarettes. She continued to eye him down until she saw the familiar white roll slip out of the box. "Here. Sorry, it's the last one I have."

Revy snatched the cigarette and stuffed it in her mouth so hurriedly that she didn't realize it wasn't lit. "Ugh. I can't smoke it like this, dumbass. Give me your light," she demanded, sticking her cigarette out from her mouth towards Rock.  
"Oh. Right, sorry," he replied flatly. He leaned in, took the cigarette out of Revy's mouth (much to her surprise), and lit it off his own lit end. Revy took the cigarette back and turned away, eager not to waste any of the precious tobacco. Rock took a seat by edge of his bed, busying himself with the taste of smoke.  
Revy followed suit, taking her lie on the other side.

For a few minutes, the two silently puffed away, not looking at each other. The haze and dulling sensation took both of them far from the city. Revy eyed the almost empty apartment. Aside from the multiple bulletholes and a chunk of his wall missing, Rock's apartment was well-kept. His bed was neatly made and organized, and that was about all she saw about the room. It was cleaner than most of the brothel upstairs at Bao's, at least. The only mess she saw was the huge hole in the corner and the bulletholes all over one wall.

"Long time no see, Rock. You've been having fun on your two month vacation?"

"No. Hiding out in here from the rest of the world isn't my idea of fun," Rock glumly answered.

"You've gotten pretty good at being a hiding pussy, that's for sure. Chang and Balalaika won't stop bothering us about what happened to you. Fuck, even Eda's been wondering where she could find this dump of a room."

Eda's name tickled Rock's interest. "She hasn't come by at all. You must not have told her."

Rock's disappointed voice forced Revy to snap. "Yeah, I didn't. Got a problem with that, Rock?" she repeated, slightly offended.  
"What did she want?" he said, ignoring Revy's defensive tone.

"How should I know? The moment she opened her slut mouth saying 'I haven't been with that businessman of yours in a while', I told her to can it." Slowly, her mind started piecing together Eda's own attitude towards Rock with Rock's own interest. "If you ever do anything with her, I might just throw up on you and your grave."

Rock remained still, as if Revy was no longer in the room and he was alone with his thoughts again. Revy waited for a response from the man, but all she received was his silence. With one name, she could feel that the chilly atmosphere around them had become as cold as a tundra.

"Sheesh. What a bore. You've been in this rotten mood since that tiny maid shot you in the gut with that fake gun of yours. I'm guessing you haven't touched that paycheck of yours yet, either." If she still had that money and two months off, she would have been busy having the time of her life. "Look, if something's bothering you, just spit it out Rock. You've had two months to think about what the hell's been up with you, and I'm not about to play Dr. Phil with you until the sun rises. "

"There's no point in talking about it. It's not going to bring anyone back. Nothing I do right now is going to help."

"Shit Rock, you're the most boring fuck in this town," She sat up. "A whole month you've been gone, and that's all that's coming out of that mouth of yours." Even if he was depressed or something, that didn't give him an excuse to continue ignoring her and the rest of Lagoon. "Let me guess, you still hung up on that Jap chick?"

"Not just Yukio. The twins. Roberta. And Garcia," he finally responded. With each name he felt the pain of a thousand bullets ripping through his flesh, straight into his heart. Though his hand never pulled a trigger, he may as well have sentenced them all to their deaths. Even if their lives had known the same violence, death, and vice that Roanapur was made of, Rock had failed to bring them into the light. " Even if they were all still alive, they've already been touched by the walking dead. I wanted to save them, Revy. From dying. From Roanapur. From falling into this world of death and pain."

Revy groaned, visibly annoyed at Rock's moping. Here it was again, Rock's famous bleeding heart. "Damn, Rock. I can't even say you're a pussy anymore. You're just a dumbass," she said harshly. "And in the end, they're all worse off than before you decided to save them."

With that, the mood quickly soured between them. His brow cast a menacing shadow over his frowning face.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

Revy eyed his subtle response, and grinned devilishly. "That got something out of you. Yeah, you're a dumbass Rock. Need me to say it again? Dumb. Ass. And you wanna know why? Because those little kids, Yukio, her manslave Jumbo, and Garcia wanted to dive head first into this pool of crap called Roanapur. Whatever this town and its world offered, they _wanted_, whether it be money, a place to get money or power, or some moral bullshit like saving a psycho maid from catching a bullet between her teeth. Well, whatever it is, they tried to get it, just like the rest of us. And some of them just sucked at it and bought a one way ticket to the other side." She saw the light of Rock's own cigarette fizzle out much quickly than hers did.

"So what? That doesn't change the fact that it was this city that dragged them into it all!" Rock yelled. Revy could see his own eyes burning. The intensity of his guilty words made Revy flinch momentarily. Just a moment, before she mentally threw up at Rock's naivety.

"Cry me a fucking river to China, Rock. You think I'm happy having to watch all dumb shits turn stiff when they catch a bullet? It's already a sad, rainy world out here, Rock. If there's a God up there, he's probably having a blast taking a piss all over us all rather than crying over another dead fuck. The world doesn't need your tears to add to the rain."

Rock paused. "Then what should I do? Just be like you and the rest of Roanapur and ignore everyone important to me getting hurt? Live life with a crooked smile as long as I get paid?" he responded callously.

Revy's eyes widened, as if ten daggers were jabbed into her abdomen. With but a few words, the wounds Rock had inflicted on her in the past year disappeared, replaced by one large bleeding hole in her body. The trick she pulled on Shenhua to get him back from the raghead extremists. Escorting him out of her own free will to Japan. Murdering that Jap pussy for beating the shit out of him. The sword she caught with her knee. She didn't even feel any of the pain anymore.

Coming this close to _fucking shoot_ _Balalaika _to make sure her shitty, useless partner came out in one piece.

Right there, poof. _Nothing. Meant nothing. Like a fucking toothfairy_.

"What the fuck did you just say to me, Rock?" she asked intensely. But Rock did not waver under her breath.

"You heard me, you and everyone in thi-"

Rock was interrupted as Revy leaped across the bed, punching Rock in his gut. Rock felt his breath and the rest of sentence being knocked out of his body as Revy threw her entire body into the blow. Rock lost his balance, flailing his arms trying to throw Revy off him. But the two of them fell to the floor near the window. He tried to escape again, but found his upper body being crushed by Revy own.

She grabbed the lapel of his shirt, pulling him up. The pent-up intensity in her voice reflected in her face. Darkened eyes glared down at Rock. Revy cocked her free arm back. Rock's eyes followed.

"I'm tired of listening to you talk out of your ass Rock. So now, you're going to listen.

"Here's a clue, dumbass: I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THEM. I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME OR SHIT TO GIVE ANYONE WHO ISN'T IMPORTANT. But for fuck's sake, I'd follow you into Nipland, I almost shot Fryface over you, and I've got more bullets and swords thrown into me than I've got fingers trying to help you fulfill your stupid save-the-princess jerkoff sessions. And here I am, listening to you whine about how I don't give a shit about anyone. Then what the fuck does that make you, Rock? All you've ever done is watch me to take the hits on your suicide missions while you watch from behind and get to play philosopher and judge the whole world. So why haven't I fucking planted a bullet in your brain so I stop getting bullets thrown at me? God damnit! There's only enough fucking shit I can deal with for someone who's so selfish he'd try to get himself and me killed just to find something to feel good about himself!" she screamed.

Rock felt Revy's coarse, hot, heavy breath down his face. His eyes were no longer fixated on the clenched fist behind her, but the harsh laugh lines on her otherwise young face. Such marks appeared only after a lifetime of joy, or pain. Those same marks on her face from her twisted smiling were being pulled and wrenched right now in a hurtful scowl. In fact, the only way Rock could differentiate the twisted, gleeful smile and her sorrowful, loathing scowl was by what she was doing at the time and the shape of her eyes.

With her Cutlasses in their holsters, her clenching fist slowly dropping, and her own eyes having trouble focusing at his own, he could tell that she took no pleasure in what he had said, nor would she take any in rightfully tearing him apart. Right there, he knew she didn't want to hurt him, but at the same time, she would not stand being hurt by someone important enough for her to care about. Revy would not take pleasure in feeling more pain.

_And again, someone was hurt because of my hands. _

"I'm sorry, Revy. I didn't realize that you did all that for me," he apologized. There was nothing else he could say but the truth she revealed. "And you're right in feeling all that you said. Every bit of it. Because I am wrong to have done all that to you," he said remorsefully.  
She waited for him to say something else, say something so stupid he could have an excuse to bash his face in, an excuse to pay him back for all the pain he caused her. Anything to justify and confirm what she thought of him right now; a selfish, powerless prick. But Rock's simple words were not what she was looking for, which caught her off guard.

In fact, Rock had simply given Revy what she wanted. And so she simply stared at him, quietly taking in everything he said.

"…Ah, fuck it," she finally replied, defeated , dropping Rock's collar. The businessman fell backwards onto the floor with a thud and a groan. Revy leaned back against the edge of the bed, exhausted. The grassy taste of tobacco started lining her tongue, making her gag. "God damnit, chewed the cigarette," she casually remarked, trying to forget the broiling emotional exchange the both of them had.

Again, they sat in silence, more out of fear of saying another word rather than a lack of words to talk about. In their separate minds, each played hopscotch across a minefield, trying to find a way to the others' mind.

"Look Rock. I didn't want to come here to kick your ass. Dutch asked me to see if you'd be up to go to Bao's," Revy finally said, breaking the cold air between them with her own brand of light-hearted conversation. "Last time he let me in, he asked where the hell you were. Hell, even Eda wanted to know where you were hiding out,"Revy balled her hands tightly, imagining the feel of Eda's throat being crushed in between her fingers. "Shit, you know you need a Bacardi if a fuckin' bartender in Roanapur misses you so much. So why don't you just be a good little boy, quit your moping, and get wasted?"

"But you don't have any money. You said you were broke, remember?"

Revy groaned. "Yes, yes, I _know _I'm flat broke, and I can thank that bitch Eda for it. Don't need you to remind me. That's why you and your part of Chang's cash are coming along so Bao doesn't blow a hole in my head for my tab." From the corner of her eye, she saw Rock's mouth drop, dumbfounded and incredulous to what Revy just said. "Just get your keys, so we can blow this dump and get drunk," she said hastily, making her way to the dented door, "before I break that stupid face of yours."

He tried to knock the stars out of his mind, but Revy's astronomical loss was too much for him to comprehend, even for Revy. "Revy, how do you lose one mi-"  
"I didn't ask for your questions, Rock. Christ, am I talking to Helen Keller over there? Get the keys! And don't forget the cash!" she screamed back at Rock through the doorway, leaving Rock alone in the apartment. Her stomps grew softer until there was silence for about a few seconds. Rock soon heard another tenant's angry voice coming from the staircase, followed by Revy's own barking.

He got down on his knees, and reached under his bed. Since his nightstand did not have a drawer, Rock learned to utilize (and of course, organize) many of his clothing and personal belongings under his bed. He navigated his hand through the network of suitcases and (neat) piles of clothing until he found the corner of his lockbox.

As he pulled the lockbox out, a duffel bag came sliding out from under the bed, caught on its edge. It rested on his knee. He froze, as if a demon was hiding inside the bag itself, paralyzing him with its glare. Rock knew he had buried that bag as far he could behind all of his belongings, far away from where he could ever see or think about it.

Inside the bag was his share of Chang's payment, a full $1 million USD, for helping to rid Roanapur of the US army and Roberta the Maid. To Boss Chang, the money was chump change compared to the damage the US Army would have wreaked on the city. In Roanapur, money was power, money was king. And whoever had it, ruled Roanapur. And Chang just casually dropped $1 million of this power on his lap like it was nothing to him.

It was that very power, sitting next to Rock's leg, that terrified him. The bag may as well have been full of weights tied to his leg. He could feel a dark presence strangling his body the longer he stared at the bag. And like a nightmare come back to haunt him, he remembered.

This was the same power that he had seen so many die for. This was the same power that drew innocents and thugs alike into Roanapur, into a dance of death. Yukio. The twins. Every mishap he had been in for the past year and a half was for the sake of what lay in this abandoned stash under his bed.

And a long time ago, he knew Revy had killed for it, too.

It wouldn' t matter if he had thrown all that money away on that dock. Blood money was always earned. Rock could have burned it all right here and it wouldn't have made a difference; his hands would always be dirtied. In Garcia's blood, in Yukio's blood, Gretel's. Everyone he had tried to save, ended up dying by his own work.

_Who would be next?_

A shot rang out from the street outside his window, where his car was parked. One bullet went straight through the top part of his wall. "Hey! What gives, Rock? I thought you were coming!" Revy's temper was just as short as her patience. He broke his gaze on the duffel bag immediately as soon as he heard Revy's voice. Quickly, he took the keys out of the lockbox, his wallet, and stuffed both of them as far back into the labyrinth as he could. "Did you shit your new pants or something? Hurry the fuck up and drive!" she called out.

~The Yellow Flag, 2:48AM~

Save for Bao's leery eyes and Eda, the Yellow Flag was surprisingly empty. Even the brothel upstairs was quiet, except for the whores' giggling. With a shot glass in one hand and a shotgun in the other, Bao watched the doors of the bar, waiting for thirsty customers to walk in and give him money.

He had dark bags under his eyes, and a worried, tired look on his face. The aged ex-soldier looked at the newly renovated clock behind him above the bar's fine liquors. 2:15AM. He turned around again, but the doors remained as still and unmoving as they were for the past twelve hours.

Frustrated and desperate, Bao slammed his fist against the bar. "God damnit! What the hell's gone wrong with this city? There should've be people stumbling in and out of this bar drunk off their asses the minute I opened these doors!" Bao yelled at the doors. He heard the sounds of women laughing, giggling, and gossiping upstairs. The gleeful ladies' voices were a far cry from the hyena-like screams and wails that usually came from the ceiling above. "Shit, even the whorehouse is empty! How the hell am I going to keep this bar afloat if there's no money coming in?" He turned to Eda, who had an empty shot glass in her hands and an emptier look on her face as she stared down at the glass. "Hey, blondie! If you're just gonna stare at that glass and not drink, tell that God of yours to bring me some customers who will!"

"The Lord's not in today. Try calling back in another two thousand years, " she replied. Eda shifted in her chair, trying to regain feeling in her ass. Bao noticed the same weary look on her face, too. Eda lifted her the ruffled cuffs on her sleeves, exposing her gold plated watch. "I may as well wait another two thousand for those bozos to finally show up."

Bao's old mind whirred and clicked until he realized who Eda was talking about. "Hey, if you're going to take Revy's boytoy, you take it outside, out of here, and stay the hell away from my bar! I don't want a repeat of that psycho minimaid incident!" he exploded. "I should be kicking you out since you're probably scaring everyone outta here! You're damned cut out of the same tree as Two-Hands!"

"Bao, this place is useful for a lot of people in this town. You think I'm as stupid as Two-Hands to let this place go in flames?"

"You're armed and have the money to boot to do it with. The only thing missing is someone to shoot at!"

"Quit your whining, or did you forget that I convinced the Church to pay for all the repairs? You should be thanking me for just sitting here and gracing you with the Lord's bounty.

"Ahh, it's no use," Bao finally admitted defeatedly. "That whole international shitfest with La Loca Chica probably near wiped out every single person who came to this bar." He sighed. "And just as the renovations were finished, too." He whined.

"Ah, just shut up Bao, and get us the Bacardi!" a familiar, coarse voice demanded from the doors. With one kick of her boot, the doors opened and slammed against the walls of the bar. Bao heard the sound of opened doors, and excitedly beamed at the doors.

"Welcome! Welcome! Come on in and grab a seat! We've got plenty of booze, just waiting to-"

He stopped himself, his elation slowly deflating out of his head and down into his gut as he realized who just walked into his bar.

"Jesus Christ, out of all the people who could have come in tonight, it had to be you, ya crazy bitch!" he yelled at the figure in the doorway.


End file.
